


Nuisance

by Kuukkeli



Series: Miscellaneous [7]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, MTMTE, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tender Sex?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-12 14:16:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4482407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuukkeli/pseuds/Kuukkeli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, he's a nuisance and a rascal but he's Ratchet's beloved and precious nuisance and rascal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nuisance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlimReaper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimReaper/gifts).



> I... needed a distraction. :D Pure self-indulgence. Also, it's a gift. I considered for long if I should gift this fic - but then I decided, why the hell not. Let's go for it.
> 
> Wow. That summary really sucks.

His engine growled possessively as Drift pinned the larger mech against the wall, fingers entwined together, lips busy devouring each other.

Feeling impatient, the white mech uttered a whimper, hoping that could get Ratchet give him what he wanted. He took the other of the medic’s hands and ran his tongue up the index finger before sealing his lips around the tip and taking the finger in his mouth.

“Nnh, kid...” Ratchet grunted, shivering at the pleasurable tingle the skillful tongue caused him.

Drift closed his optics and hummed around the finger and sucked _hard_ , echoing the groan the medic let loose.

“W-wait... Drift, wait”, the older mech gasped and gently withdrew his finger, though not before the white mech planted a wet kiss on the tip.

“What is it?” Drift asked, nuzzling the warm neck and occasionally flicking his tongue against an energon line.

“I... I want you to fetch something for me”, Ratchet rumbled, stroking an audio finial affectionate, enjoying the happy growling sound that vibrated Drift’s body.

“What is it you want?” the swordsmech purred, leaning his head to the touch.

“I think I want to use that crop tonight”, the red and white mech whispered, embracing the other mech, his hand never ceasing from stroking the finial, “If that’s okay with you”, he added.

“Mmh, sure. I’ll be back in a sec”, Drift said and – reluctantly – left Ratchet to look for the requested item. When he found it, he came back, carrying the crop in his mouth, his sharp fangs visible.

“Took you longer than a second”, Ratchet teased and held his hand under Drift’s jaw, expecting the crop to fall onto his palm. But when there was no reaction whatsoever, he gave the younger mech the look, non-verbally giving him an order.

Nothing happened and Ratchet grasped the crop and tugged at it gently to which Drift reacted and tugged back, uttering a playful growl.

“Drop it”, came the order, strict but soft.

And the fangs let go of the crop, the experienced fingers wrapping around the thin shaft, the other hand taking a firm hold of the thicker handle. Ratchet inspected the crop for a moment before sweeping the flat end up Drift’s stomach, over his chest and right under his chin, forcing the white mech to tip his head back. He smiled at the involuntary shiver the maneuver sent through his lover’s body.

“Yes”, the larger mech crooned, “Just what I wanted.”

“Anything else you want?” Drift mumbled and snuggled against Ratchet, making himself comfortable – though, that nice arousal never left his body and he definitely was ready for some fun.

“Hmm...” the medic hummed deeply, lowering the crop and running the flat head up and down Drift’s inner thigh, earning a breathy moan, “What else would I want...?” He continued stroking the now trembling thighs with the crop until he brushed the crop up the closed panel that hid the white mech’s no doubt wet valve.

“Open that”, he ordered.

Drift wasted no time on opening his panel and gasped loudly as the flat end of the crop rubbed and tapped against his anterior node, his knees buckling. “Unh... Ratchet”, he moaned, pressing his palms flat against the wall.

“Yes, feels good, doesn’t it?” Ratchet rumbled, nuzzling one of the finials, his tongue licking the edge near the base. Oh, how he loved those finials. They downright screamed to be fondled with, licked, sucked. He guided Drift to bow his head forward and swept up the edge of finial with his free hand, pinching the tip gently before repeating the stroking movement.

“So good”, the swordsmech groaned and tilted his hips just a little bit forward to get more.

“Ah-ah. None of that”, the older mech scolded and pulled the crop away, swatting Drift’s left thigh.

Squeaking at the sudden stinging sensation, Drift moved his thigh away from the crop instinctively. “That’s not fair, Hatchet”, he hissed.

“Perhaps so but we follow _my_ rules now”, Ratchet spoke with his deep, gruff voice which worked miracles to Drift, the younger mech sighing in pleasure as the words were bled into his audio. Drift loved it when the red and white mech got all dominant towards him; it made him feel safe and loved. To have someone take the control and leave him without any responsibilities, give him instructions and just... let him be... That was a huge turn on for him.

And Ratchet’s raspy voice was only a bonus.

“Are you going to behave from now on?” the medic asked, lifting Drift’s head by using the crop’s flat head.

“Mh-hm”, was the reply accompanied by a nod and a smile that flashed a pair of sharp fangs.

“Good boy.”

Drift drank the praise like the sweetest, the most delicious energon, becoming intoxicated by its effects to his body. He closed his optics slowly as Ratchet replaced the crop with his fingers and scratched his chin, a long groan escaping his vocalizer.

“That’s a good boy. Such a good boy”, the praises spilled from the red and white mech’s lips, filling his companion with pleasure. “Shall we take this to a more comfortable place?”

“That’d be nice”, Drift purred and took Ratchet’s hand into his own and tugged him along towards the berthroom.

Climbing up on the berth, the white mech settled down on his back, waiting for the other mech to give him instructions, orders, _attention_. Anything was good right now, basically. When Ratchet didn’t follow him to the berth, Drift whimpered, his right hand pawing at his valve desperately while the other hand clenched into a fist beside his head.

Ratchet flicked the crop in a sign for the swordsmech to remove his hand away from his valve, watching how the thick thighs squeezed together as the hand disappeared from between them to his mouth, tongue lapping the soaked fingers clean. He gave an appreciative smile to the young mech, though remained where he stood.

“I think I’ll just... _admire_ the sight for a moment. After all, I know you haven’t behaved yourself quite well recently. Oh, yes. Ultra Magnus told me about what you and Rodimus did yesterday”, he drawled, drawing small circles along Drift’s left thigh, occasionally dipping lower to run the flat surface across the headlight. The swordsmech shivered at the tickling sensation, pushing his thigh closer but the crop was moved away.

“Behave. I don’t want to admonish you”, Ratchet said, the crop caressing now the back of the same thigh.

“Sometimes you can be such a rascal and a nuisance”, he mused, all the while he teased his love with the crop, “But at least you’re _my_ rascal and nuisance.”

Drift’s charge rose higher as he listened to Ratchet, the timbre resonating deep inside him, making it very hard to keep his composure. It was like the vibrations of Ratchet’s voice slithered through his armor all the way straight to his valve, more lubricants slicking the already wet mesh walls.

“Ratchet, please”, he whined, rubbing his thighs together, as if the light friction would work.

“Begging already? I thought you’d last longer than this”, the older mech chided gently, finally joining Drift, settling above him, nearly straddling the younger mech. “Turn around.”

The smaller mech quickly obeyed the command and turned to lie down on his stomach, pushing his hips up, minding not to kick Ratchet as his legs were trapped between the medic’s, thighs pressed together.

“Good boy. You may relieve some _discomfort_ the way you see fit.”

It didn’t take long for him to decide until Drift ground his wet valve against the larger mech’s still closed panel, tilting his hips to get the best sensations to his anterior node, smearing lubricants all over the smooth surface. Ratchet brought the first two fingers of his right hand to the swordsmech’s node and started drumming them against the sensitive and swollen node. The younger mech wailed and pushed back, his valve flush against Ratchet.

The red and white mech pressed their arrays together more firmly and let his panel slide open, the panel dragging against the puff folds as it opened, his rigid spike slipping straight into Drift’s waiting valve, filling him instantly. The thick girth spread the mesh walls apart, the calibers clamping down around the intruder, drawing a long moan from the white mech whose back arched like a bow being pulled back for a shot.

“I’m not going to make you feel like this is a punishment and frag you through the berth, no”, Ratchet rumbled as he leaned down to speak into Drift’s audio, his spike shifting within the grip of the valve, “I shall make love to you and remind you how good this feels so the next time you misbehave, you will be left without any of this; without the relief of an overload I’d give you, without my gentle touch caressing you.”

Drift whimpered, promising and vowing hands upon Peerless, that he’ll behave from now on.

“Care to tell me what happened yesterday? I want to hear it from you”, the medic rasped, his fingertips circling and caressing the slick node as he started thrusting slowly, savoring the feeling of Drift rippling, clenching around him.

The white mech had to gather his thoughts and reboot his vocalizer couple of times before he could even think about talking. “I... M-me and Rodimus”, he began, “We... we thought it’d be a-a-ah! good idea to burn some... some excess energy by racing along the corridors”, he blurted the rest out and gasped.

“A good idea?” Ratchet asked, stilling his hips even though arousal raged in his veins, his spike throbbing, “It’d be a good idea to race inside the ship? What were you thinking? Apparently you weren’t...”

“I’m... I’m sorry”, Drift replied meekly, his field probing Ratchet’s submissively.

“Well, I think you two got a harangue from Ultra Magnus already”, the older mech said and answered the careful brush of his field against Drift’s with a strong wave of love and warmth, reassuring the white mech everything’s was all right.

“Y-yeah.”

With that, Ratchet started moving again, slow and sweet and tender, relishing the moment. The way Drift’s thighs pressed together made the penetration even tighter, giving the white mech a full feeling every time Ratchet pushed back in.

The swordsmech had a small smile on his face; he was enjoying himself. And why would he not be? He was with Ratchet and was feeling so good under him. He liked to be covered by the bulkier body, liked the hands that ran up his back, over his shoulders, up along his arms, eventually stopping on top of his black ones.

The medic was always so considerate; he didn’t want to crush his loved one’s hands so he slipped his hands under Drift’s, giving him a silent suggestion to lace their fingers together. Such a simple gesture but yet so intimate. There was something about holding hands during love making... Something deeper, something greater, something... so much more than just the plain ‘facing that connected two beings into one for one amazing moment.

To feel his lover like this – hands pressed together – almost undid Ratchet but he managed to fight the oncoming overload by sheer willpower he didn’t think he’d have at a time like this.

“You’re so beautiful, Drift”, he groaned, panting hard, “So beautiful. I still can’t believe I can be like this with you. That you’d spend your time with someone like me. Primus must’ve taken pity on my sorry aft”, he added with a breathy chuckle.

The younger mech huffed a laugh at that last part and pushed his hips back. “Why would I not be with you?” he whispered and moved his head to the left enough to plant a searing kiss on Ratchet’s thumb and murmured against it, his lips brushing the hot surface, “You’re my world.”

Those words shot through Ratchet’s spark, lighting it up with the deepest, strongest emotions possible, and straight down to his array.

“ _Oh, Drift..._ ”

That was all the warning Drift got before a sticky, hot stream of transfluids burst out from the slit of Ratchet’s spike, coating the mesh walls of the younger mech’s valve.

A long moan escaped Drift’s vocalizer and he arched his back, his fangs biting down on his bottom lip. He wasn’t quite yet satisfied but oh, Primus, did he enjoy being filled with everything the older mech had to offer him!

Once Ratchet came back down from the peak of his overload, feeling high and lax, he separated their hands and got to work Drift over the edge. To hell with his post-coitus stupor, he had a mission to fulfill! And he was determined to make the most of it. With his mouth.

Placing his slightly trembling hands on the backs of Drift’s thighs, fingers snaking into the wheel wells, fingertips tickling the rims, the medic gave the valve a long lick from the anterior node to the entrance, his tongue wading through their shared fluids. The other mech shivered delightfully at that and another lick got him shuddering more. The long, flat strokes of a tongue continued until Ratchet had a keening speedster practically humping his face in an odd position but be damned if that stopped him now. Not when Drift was on the verge of overloading and a couple of rubs to his anterior node had him moaning loudly, his whole body tensing, optics squeezed shut tightly as overload surged through him.

The red and white mech didn’t ease up until the younger mech whimpered in discomfort and leaned forward away from the intruding.

They fell silent. They didn’t need words. This moment didn’t need words. Ratchet got up and fetched cleaning cloths for both of them and settled to clean the white mech first and then himself. He then went to throw the used cloths away to be washed later and when he came back, Drift was lying on his side and had his arms stretched out, hands making the grabby hands gesture, a happy yet weary expression on his face.

The larger mech quickly got back to the berth to close his lover into a warm, safe embrace, Drift’s head tugged under his chin, arms wrapped around the lithe waist. Drift returned the hug by snuggling closer, nuzzling the clear windshield, cocooning himself into the feeling of Ratchet around him.

Perhaps he should be a nasty little shit more often if it got him this kind of treatment... Nah, better not try his luck. Smiling a bit wider, the white mech let exhaustion take control and fell asleep.


End file.
